


Dance of Roses

by youreyestheyglow



Series: The Asshat Chronicles [2]
Category: Homestuck
Genre: Angst, Fluff, M/M, Smut, same shit as the last part
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2014-01-11
Updated: 2014-02-04
Packaged: 2018-01-08 06:34:51
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 5
Words: 19,822
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/1129456
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/youreyestheyglow/pseuds/youreyestheyglow
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Graduation and the resulting problems and unresolved questions.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> Some kid asked for a sequel and I was pretty sad at the thought having to stop writing this ship anyway, so a thing happened.

Setting this up had been the most incredibly difficult thing you’d ever done in your entire life, up to and including building a robot that rapped with people, coming up with its own rhymes on the fly and essentially thinking for itself.

But you managed it.

John had laughed until he cried, when you told him.

Dave had looked mildly nauseous.

Egbert had accepted it with a long silence and a heavy sigh.

After you told her, Roxy spent two hours breaking out in random giggling fits.

Rose had looked at you.

Just looked.

The girl had purple eyes that could see into your soul.

John’s second cousins had been perfectly okay with the arrangement, as far as Egbert had informed you, but John had already confided that Jane and Jade – twins a year older than John – were skeptical about Roxy’s ability to host them. He said that their father, Egbert’s cousin Jake, had told them to deal with it, and didn’t mind that they’d be staying in separate neighborhoods. According to John, Jake had laughed and said something about appreciating adventures, but he’d said it in an English accent and so loudly and exuberantly that you were pretty sure he’d been kidding.

But it was done, and here you are, sitting in the football stadium with Roxy and Rose to your right and four empty seats to your left, waiting for John’s family to fill them.

“You know, they could have just stayed in a hotel,” Rose says.

“Aw hush, Rosey, that wouldn’t have been half as fun.”

“I think it would have been twice as fun.”

“I think I’m gonna have to get you drunk before you’re any fun.”

“I doubt it’ll work.”

“Getting you drunk or getting you to be any fun?”

“Both.”

You see Egbert coming up the stairs, glancing around and catching your eye. “Rox, shut it, if he even _hears_ the word drunk he’s going to kick you down onto the field so fast you won’t have time to scream the name of your favorite wine –”

“Ice wine. Nice ta meetcha, James,” She says, holding out her hand as Egbert nears you.

Egbert raised his eyebrows. “I assume you must be Roxy Lalonde?”

“You assume correctly.”

“Your name is James?” You ask incredulously. How the fuck did Roxy get that out of him?

“Yes.”

“You didn’t know your boyfriend’s dad’s first name?” Roxy asks with a gasp.

“How did _you_ find out his name?”

“ _I_ did my research.”

“Research?”

“Yes.”

Rose sighs. “He has an email account with his first name on it.”

“I’m sorry?” Egbert asks politely.

You sigh. “Roxy hacked your email to find out your first name.”

Egbert looks mildly shocked – quite an expression change, for him – but the man behind him grins widely and bursts into laughter.

The two girls behind him – Jane and Jade, presumably – exchange glances.

“You must be Roxy Lalonde!” He reaches around Egbert to shake Roxy’s hand. “I must admit I didn’t expect such a firecracker!”

Roxy shakes his hand and grins back at him. “I try my best.”

Introductions are made, and you sit, making a mental note to apologize to John for not believing his impression of Jake Harley, which was, in fact, perfect.

“Jake. Where did you get your English accent from?” You ask.

“My parents moved to England when I was little, and didn’t move back until my senior year of high school.” He grins nostalgically. “My accent was so pronounced, initially, that I got the nickname ‘English.’ Second semester I went to my new classes and one of my teachers accidentally called me ‘Jake English’ instead of Harley. Can’t say I minded, really. It’s a damn good moniker.”

You make another mental note: Jake rambles.

“So you’re the man courting my nephew, huh?”

“That’s one way of putting it.”

“Well how would you put it, chap?”

“Not quite sure, but not like that.”

He laughs again. "Is 'courting' too nice a word for it?"

You frown. What is it with John's family and saying things that barely hint at what they want from you? "Well, no, but -"

"Good."

“Rosey, why don’t we do some rearranging so you can sit next to Jane and Jade?” Roxy asks quickly.

“Roxy, if you –”

“That’s a fine idea!” Jake says heartily. “Why don’t we switch places? The three of you can get to know each other!”

Jade grins. Jane looks wary. Roxy looks mildly worried, as though maybe her plan to occupy Jake backfired.

Thank god the two of them have different haircuts. You’d never be able to tell them apart otherwise.

Rose stands with a sigh like she’s about to sacrifice herself on the cross.

She throws you a glance as she passes. You’re not quite sure what it means, but you suspect something along the lines of “this is all your goddamn fault, I know it, you know it, and I will find you and make you pay one night far into the future when you’ve grown into a scared, paranoid, unlovable freak because you’ve been waiting for me all your life, and by the time I get to you you’ll be grateful because at least it means the wait is over.”

Again, just a vague suspicion. Not like she pulled you aside after dinner a few weeks back and hissed it at you under guise of making you help with the dishes.

You smile a little as she sits next to Jade.

If Jade and Jane are anything like John, she’ll warm up to them in no time.

Jake talks nonstop, Roxy giving him her full attention. You’re not quite sure if she finds him attractive, if she thinks he’s a good source of entertainment, or if she's really worried that he'll bug you if she doesn't keep his attention. Probably a combination of all three.

You can’t wait until they leave so you and Roxy can sit down and she can repeat everything Jake said, along with a full analysis of exactly how much of it he stole off the internet.

You glance over at Rose. She’s listening attentively to Jane, who, from what you can tell, is relating a funny story about a cake. You have no idea what could be funny about a cake, but Jade is laughing and Rose has cracked a smile, so it must be interesting; you’ve never yet known Rose to smile at something she didn’t find worthy of a smile, regardless of how important it was that she do so.

The ceremony starts just minutes later, the graduates striding out in neat rows and filing into their chairs, waiting for the signal before sitting in one movement.

You scan the rows for Dave and John.

“They’re there and there,” Roxy says, pointing them out.

“How did you find them so darn fast?” Jake asks.

“They’re sorted alphabetically. Their names start with Eg and St. With the number of students in the school, there were only two general areas they could be in, so I searched through those areas and found them. It helps that Davey always wears his shades.”

“I am astounded, Madame!” He exclaims.

“Where’s John?” Egbert asks.

You point him out. He nods and thanks you.

Three different people make speeches about the incredible accomplishments of the class, including the varied jobs awaiting the new graduates and the unpaid internships taken over the years. The valedictorian gives a speech about all the things she’d learned, all the people she’d met, the professors she’d be staying in touch with, the connections she’d made.

Finally, they begin calling names, slowly, giving people time to take pictures as the students get their diplomas.

When John’s name is called, Jake whoops and claps, drawing the attention of John and everyone around you. It’s probably a good thing, though, because between the seven of you, you end up with a grand total of twenty-three shots of him receiving his diploma and smiling straight at you.

It also makes you feel better about doing the same when it’s Dave’s turn.

You refuse to take responsibility for Roxy shrieking “Your shades make you look like you have alien eyes from up here!”

The last student gets her diploma and returns to her seat. The graduates jump up and throw their hats in the air with a cheer. Those in the seats begin flooding down and out, texting and calling their graduate, setting up a meeting point.

You meet up on the field, where John and Dave are already taking selfies, Dave wearing John’s glasses and John wearing Dave’s shades.

You snap a picture of John squinting at you over Dave’s shades, blind as hell and trying to see anyway. “Ok, I need my glasses back now –”

“Hell no, dude, this is the weirdest thing I’ve ever seen, everyone looks all curvy and weird – yo, Bro, have you ever tried on John’s glasses, his vision is _awful_ -"

"How do either of you manage to see anything through these, the world looks like the sun doesn't exist -"

"John!" Jake half-bellows, grabbing John in a hug. "It's been too long!"

"Spring break was about three weeks ago," Jade whispers to you as though she was imparting a secret. 

"Does he know how to speak quietly?" You whisper back.

"I don't think so."

John pulls away, holding Dave's shades out, preventing them from being crushed. Dave hands him his glasses. "Hi, Uncle Jake."

You pull Dave into a hug when he gets his shades back. "I'm proud of you, dude. You did well."

Dave grins at you. "Not angry that I didn't get a 4.0?"

"Hell no. You did just fine." 

"Davey!" Roxy shrieks, grabbing him away from you. "You made it!"

You learn that Jane isn't one for hugging, but that Jade gives hugs like Jake's. John hugs his dad, exchanges nods with Rose, and gets swept into Roxy's arms for a hug.

John turns to you and smirks. "You're officially dating a college graduate."

"You've been dating a college graduate for the past three and a half years, nothing special about it."

John drops his voice. "Did Jake give you any trouble about it?"

"Not really. Sorry, though. I thought your impersonation of him was overexaggerated."

"What're you two talking about over here?" Jake asks loudly, clapping you on the back. 

He was probably trying to cause you some pain. 

Fortunately, your strifes over the decades have left you nearly immune to pain - or able to ignore it, anyway.

"Not much, why?" John asks innocently. "I was just saying I'm almost sad to be leaving college - it was such an adventure, shame it's over -"

"Over? Of course it's not over!" Jake says, horrified. "That's the best part of life, kiddo! It goes on for a gosh darned long time! College is just one chapter in the book of life, and that book is an adventure book!"

Jake continues on, gesturing wildly with his hands.

You meet Roxy's eyes.

She looks incredibly happy, and makes her way over to you. "I am going to marry him, I swear to god," She murmurs thoughtfully. "Look at 'im. Standing there. Tallking loudly and saying the stupidest fuckin' things I've ever heard in my life. Can you imagine waking up every day to a 'Hallelujah the world is beautiful, let's be happy we're still here to enjoy it,' bellowed in the most affected English accent in the world?"

"Affected? So you're saying it's not real?"

"Oh, it's real all right, but let's face it, after living in New York for a couple decades it should've faded a bit. You've been down here for way less time than he's been up there, and you say 'ain't' sometimes and you get an accent every so often. He hasn't lost his accent at _all_. He works  _hard_ to keep that thing. What a guy."

"You have really weird taste in men."

"Says the dude in a long-term relationship with someone fifteen years younger than he is. Anyway, you should be happy about my taste in men, we met because of it." She whacks you. "Speaking of your boyf, maybe you should go rescue him, he looks like 'is ears are about to fall off."

You glance at John, whose eyes have gone unfocused. "Jake, hate to interrupt, but I've got a couple questions for John, so..." You grab John's arm and tug a little.

"Course, mate! Who am I to stand in the way of some questions?" He says, his eyes glinting at you.

"Thanks. Listen, John," You say, turning him away from Jake. "Is there anyway we can get him to stay with Roxy or in a hotel or somewhere that isn't  _my house_?" You mutter quietly.

John sniggers. "What, a little uncomfortable?"

"What, you're not?"

"No, I'm not, just bored out of my mind."

"Well, listen, I'm just worried we're going to wake up one night because Uncle Jake over there came in with a chainsaw so he can saw my bed in two, push the halves to opposite sides of the room, and build a goddamn wall in between the beds, probably leaving me without a door."

John tries and fails to choke back his laughter, making a strange gurgling noise. "Nah. He's not  _that_ bad."

"How do you know? Have you dated a near-middle-aged man before?"

"Well, no, but. I don't think he'd -" he looks over his shoulder. "He's looking at us. Why is he looking at us?"

"Because I'm thirty-seven and you're twenty-two?"

"Talkin' about Jakey-poo?" Roxy asks quietly, coming to stand next to you.

"Did you just call him -?"

"Yes," you say, cutting off John.

"Dirky, maybe you shouldn't stand quite so close to Johnny, it appears to make Jakey a little homicidal."

"Do you add a 'y' to the end of everyone's name?" John asks curiously.

"If I don't give you a cute, babyish nickname within five minutes of meeting you, it's because I plan on murdering you in your sleep tonight. Alternatively, it means we met at a funeral, and nicknames would be inappropriate. Dirky. Isn't Jakey staying at your house?"

"Yup."

"Is it just me, or does that sound mildly dangerous?"

"It does."

"Leave this to me, baby." She turns away.

"Why the nicknames?" John whispers.

"I'll be honest, I have no idea, but she's been doing it since the day I met her." 

You and John stand and listen as Roxy wanders up to Jake.

"Jakey, I think you should come stay at my house! It'll be way more fun, you won't have to sit around with Jaimie all day -"

"So sorry, Roxy, you know I'd love to have your pleasant company all day, but I think we decided that you and your sister and my two girls would have some girltime, didn't we? I'd hate to intrude on that, so I'm afraid I've gotta refuse."

"Be honest with me, Jakey, do you really think a woman who's thirty-six will be able to have fun with two twenty-three year olds and her twenty-four year old sister? Rosey and I are writers, we can't talk too much or we start talking about our books and stealing each other's ideas, and I don't know how to have fun like kids anymore. You should come over, so we can keep each other company while the kiddies have fun."

"Gadzooks, woman, you make it difficult to say no! But I think Jade and Jane will learn plenty from you. It'll be good for them to have an older woman to talk to. I think I'll stay with the rest of the men and let you ladies talk and do womenly things."

"Womenly things? What're 'womenly things'?"

John frowns. "Okay, I thought she was kidding about the homicide, but her voice -"

"Shh, shh, just listen."

Dave appears next to you. "Jakey-poo is about to get his ass whipped."

"...painting nails, talking about boys, things that girls do -"

"Painting nails? Darling, I used to date this girl whose nails had never seen a drop of nail polish, and let me tell you, she was just as much a girl as any girl who paints her nails -"

"I, uh, didn't mean to imply -"

"And my sister is a lesbian, let me tell you, the last time she talked about a guy it was because she kicked his ass in her karate class -"

"I never said that -"

"But you did. I rescind my invitation." 

You hear nothing for a moment, and then she throws her arms around your neck and rests her cheek on your back with a sigh. "One day, Dirky, one day I'm going to travel the world and teach everyone about feminism and the stupid shit they say like 'do feminine things like paint your nails' like god forbid a man paint his nails, and then I'll be able to come on to a guy without having to worry about stupid shit like sexism."

"I'll take your class," you say with a grin.

She straightens up and pats your shoulder, reaching over and patting John's too as an afterthought. "Sorry, boys, you're stuck with 'im. If it makes you feel better, he doesn't seem like a bad guy, just a bit of an overbearing jerkface."

Egbert finds his way to your ever-growing group of family members. "If I might ask, why does my cousin look like a kicked puppy?"

Roxy sighs dramatically. "May you never have to find out," she says before drifting away towards Rose, Jane, and Jade, who haven't stopped talking since they sat next to each other.

"Jake said something sexist and Roxy yelled at him for it," you explain. 

"Ah. Well, I'd like to point out that we should leave now if we want to make our reservation?"

"Really? It's still pretty early," You say with a glance at your phone.

"Nah, Bro, it's gonna take us a little while to get out of the parking lot too," Dave reminds you.

Egbert nods. "Exactly what I was thinking, David."

Dave looks pleased.

You frown. "Yeah, that makes sense. Who's going in Roxy's car and who's coming in mine?"

"I would assume that Jake is going in your car, seeing as he has ceased to exist for Roxy. John and Dave will, of course, be going with you, and Jane and Jade will presumably go where Rose goes, in Roxy's car. I've seen both your car and Roxy's, and I believe Roxy's is larger, so it would make more sense for me to go with her."

He turns out to be wrong: Jade wants to talk to John. Dave looks at John, and you can see them having a mental battle: who gets the front seat, and who's getting crushed in the backseat with two other people?

Dave turns towards you. "I'm gonna go with Roxy, okay?"

You raise your eyebrows. "Really?"

"I am  _not_ getting squished in the back seat. It's not happening. Not in  _this_ tux." He waves a hand at his suit, the red one he bought with Egbert nearly four years ago. 

"All right, that works. Rox, you got space?"

"One, two, three, four, five - yeah, my van fits seven comfortably and eight uncomfortably, the five of us will be fine."

You pile into the two cars, Jake looking slightly uncomfortable as he slides into the backseat, Jade happily buckling up, smiling a little wider whenever she sees her dad's expression of discomfort.

You slide out into the line of cars heading for the exit, and reach for John's hand. He smiles a little when his fingers tangle with yours. 

You grin. You can't help it. Three and a half years later and you can still make him happy just by holding his hand.

Jade is like a nicer version of John; she has his snarkiness, but it's generally buried in so much sweetness that it's almost ignorable. You find yourself paying attention to them, curious about Jade.

After a few minutes, you realize that she and John are talking in code.

It sounds like they're talking about normal things, but John's never talked about dogs before, and you find it difficult to believe that he has a working knowledge of the differences between multiple dog breeds when a week ago he'd called a wiener dog a chihuahua. 

Jake, staring out the window and glancing every so often at your hand in John's, doesn't seem to notice anything.

How did he manage to raise two kids? He doesn't strike you as the fatherly type, or even as moderately responsible. 

You put aside that question and pay attention to John and Jade's conversation, trying to break or at least vaguely comprehend their code, but by the time you pull into the restaurant, you've got nothing. 

It's a nice restaurant, and you're seated at one long table, making it impossible for anyone to have a private conversation; everyone is yelling down the table, across the table, and not always at anyone in particular.

How did Egbert manage to come from the same family that produced the Harleys?

Leaving the restaurant is almost a relief.

Almost.

Because now, Dave has no choice but to come back with you and three other people. 

He mutters something about wrinkles as he closes the back door.

John wrinkles his nose at you as Jake gets in on the other side, squeezing John between Dave and Jake. 

Egbert slides into the front seat.

You're unreasonably happy with yourself for forcing Jake to sit in the backseat twice in a row.

The ride home is quiet.

It doesn't make sense.

It makes sense for John to be quiet; he's uncomfortable, pressed up against the uncle who heartily disapproves of his relationship, sitting in the same car as the father he's only barely begun to communicate with.

It still doesn't make sense.

When you pull into the driveway and open the doors, there's a strange feeling of tension being released, like taking off a tight pair of jeans at the end of the day. 

You consider the plans you'd made earlier, for sleeping arrangements: John would sleep with you, obviously; Egbert would get his usual sleeping space, downstairs on the living room fold-out couch; Jake would share with Dave.

You're on the verge of changing them, entirely uncomfortable with the idea of Jake so close to your room, when Egbert does it for you. 

"Mr. Strider, am I correct in thinking that you were planning on giving me the fold-out bed again?"

"Yeah, why?"

"Well, if my memories are correct - and I think they are - Jake is entirely unable to sleep on a twin-sized bed without falling off multiple times. And I do believe that both beds in Dave's room are twin-size. So if I might suggest switching my place and Jake's?"

"That sounds all right to me," you say, doing your best not to sound abnormally happy.

Dave's face twitches.

You show Jake to his couch, and point out the corner where Egbert has kept his bag neatly tucked away, the five or six times he's stayed at your house over the past couple years. He notices the keyboard in one corner of the room and asks pointedly if you play. You reply that no, you don't, but John does, and he stays with you often enough that you thought it warranted a keyboard for him to practice on.

Dave heaves his bag up onto his shoulder: all it contains is his sheets, a couple pairs of clothes, and his shower stuff - you drove down a week ago and took everything else out of his room, preferring to skip the rush at the end of the year. He shows Egbert up to his room. 

You help John carry his two bags - clothes and essentials only; everything else is in a storage facility a mile and a half away from their school, waiting for him to decide what to do with it - up to your room. 

"Where are you planning -"

He pushes you back onto the bed, hands firm against your stomach and lips soft against yours as he presses you down, your back curved so your head is against the headboard. He kneels above you, kissing you gently as his hands roam up over your chest. You push yourself up so you're sitting up straight and pull him against you, his body molding against yours as though you'd never been apart.

He sighs and pulls away. "I guess this'll have to wait, huh," he says disappointedly.

"Yup."

He doesn't make any move to get off of you.

You don't hear anything from the next room or downstairs, though, so you don't push him.

"What were you and Jade talking about, in the car?"

"Her friend got a new dog, and -"

"Bullshit, you don't know jack about dogs. What were you really talking about?"

He chews on his lip, trying to decide if he should tell you or not. 

You wait patiently.

"Roxy and Rose. Jade wanted to know if Rose was always that grumpy, and if Roxy was always that energetic."

"You had to say that in code?"

"Well, she also wanted to know Roxy's position on alcohol, if Roxy was big on partying, and if Roxy would be smart enough not to tell Jake, all things that she didn't want to say in front of him, and she didn't want to text because she didn't want to seem rude and antisocial."

"Okay, one mystery down, one to go."

"One to go?"

"Have you noticed anything strange about Dave recently?"

He looks at you warily. "Like what?"

"Being silent when he'd usually be talking until his mouth fell off? Speaking up about things he usually wouldn't give a shit about? Being... happy about things he usually doesn't notice?"

John frowns and thinks. "No, why? Well." His eyebrows pull together. "He barely talked at all on the way here, back from the restaurant."

You wait.

He shakes his head. "That's all I can think of, why?"

"Last time he was acting like this, he - do you hear footsteps?"

You listen.

The distinctive thump of feet coming up the stairs reaches your ears.

John tumbles off you and kneels next to his bag, unzipping it and pulling out clothing.

You pull out your phone just as Jake opens the door with a "Hey, John, whatcha doing?"

You see his eyes travel from you, sitting on your bed, to John, sitting several feet away on the floor, and you watch as his shoulders relax. 

You feel mildly guilty for treating him like his opposition to your relationship is strange. If you hadn't nearly died a few years ago, and had the subsequent time to talk to Egbert and prove that you weren't trying to break his kid's heart, he probably wouldn't be okay with it either. Even then, the first time he had stayed over - he and John had come down sometime in the summer - he hadn't been happy about John sleeping in your room. There was a chance he  _still_ wasn't. Jake had all of Egbert's reasons to protest your relationship, but somehow, he bothered you more than Egbert ever had.

Maybe you should give him a chance.

Then again, he also hadn't knocked, and if John's father could extend that courtesy to you, you saw no reason why his uncle couldn't as well - especially considering he wasn't even John's uncle, he was whatever a person is to their cousin's kid. 

"I was considering unpacking, but I don't feel like it."

"We could watch a movie instead," Jake suggests. 

"All right, I'll be down in a minute."

"Why don't you go ahead and pick the movie?"

"I always pick the movie, it should probably be someone else's turn."

"It's your graduation."

"Go ahead, John, you usually pick pretty good movies," you tell him. "I'll be down in a minute."

He looks between you and Jake, rolls his eyes, and stands. "All right."

You swing your legs off the bed and stand, wincing as your leg twinges. You can't figure out what makes it hurt; apparently, both legs healed nicely and at the same rate after the accident, physical therapy went fine, you can strife just as well as you ever could, and the right leg doesn't have any problems, but sometimes your left leg likes to remind you that it was broken.

"Age getting to you?" Jake asks harshly.

You're impressed. You didn't think he knew how to sound harsh. "No, my leg's been bothering me since I shoved your nephew out of the way of a truck."

Jake snorts as he moves to stand in front of you. "I heard about that. I saw him in his wheelchair, too."

"Wheelchair's better than a coffin."

He pokes you in the chest. "If you're using that against him - using it to keep him in a relationship he doesn't want to be in -"

You brush his hand aside. "If John wants to leave, I won't stop him."

"Does he know that?"

You snort. "I've made it very clear on several occasions."

"Are you sure?" he growls in your face.

"Well, considering we met because  _he_ threw a pie in  _my_ face, we started talking again because  _he_ refused to leave  _me_ alone,  _he_ gave  _me_ his skype, and I spent the whole time telling him it was a bad idea - yeah. He knows. He's here because he wants to be and for no other goddamn reason, and if there was anything bad about this you can bet that Dave would have ripped me to shreds for hurting his best friend and his dad would have burned the pieces. I'm still intact and alive, so how about you take that as an indication that everything's all right?" 

"Why the hell are you dating someone who's so much younger than you?"

"It's not like he's a kid. He knows what he's doing -"

"He's not  _that_ old."

"No, but he's not so young that he's changing his mind every five minutes, either. Hell, did you see some of the graduates? Some of the girls had rings on their fingers, engagement rings. People get  _married_ at his age. Some of them have  _kids_. What the hell makes you think that twenty-two year olds are still too young to think for themselves?"

He opens his mouth, but Dave sticks his head in. "Uh - yeah - hate to interrupt - well, not really - actually, I'll be honest, I don't give a shit -"

"Language, David -" Egbert's voice comes from the stairwell.

"How the fuck did he hear that - anyway, John says he's starting the movie, with or without you, so you'd better get your asses downstairs. Also, Jake, you probably shouldn't stand that close to him, Bro's known for being able to spring weird death traps on anyone who bothers him."

You smile politely at Jake and follow your brother downstairs.

To absolutely no one's surprise, John had picked a Nic Cage movie -  _Season of the Witch_. 

When the movie starts, he's leaning on your shoulder.

By the time it ends, he's bouncing on the edge of the couch, his face the picture of excitement and adoration.

"Maybe we should -"

"If you suggest another movie I will personally stab you through the stomach," Dave warns. "It is late and I am tired."

"It's eleven o'clock -"

"And I got up early. I'm going to bed. 'Night." He stands and heads for the stairs.

"Night, Dave," You respond with a glance at the clock.

It really is only eleven. 

But Egbert and Jake yawn at the same time, and it  _had_ been a long day, and you stand and remind John that Jake has to sleep on that couch. 

John grumbles as he removes the movie. 

"We can watch another one tomorrow," you promise him as you show Jake how to pull the couch out.

Egbert disappears up the stairs without saying anything.

You head upstairs, John following you after hugging Jake good night.

John yawns as he pulls off his shirt. 

When he crawls into bed next to you, he curls up with his head on your shoulder. "Jake sucks. He made us watch a movie and now it's too late for sex."

You kiss his forehead. "Hey, there's always tomorrow. And the day after. And the day after, and the day after..."

John grins. "True."

"By the way - is Jake short for Jacob?"

"Yeah, why?"

"Your dad doesn't call him Jacob."

"Yeah, he usually calls people what they want to be called after he gets to know them."

"Mm." You wrap your arm around him, pulling him closer to you. "Congratulations, by the way. I think I forgot to say that, earlier."

"Yeah, you did. I was gonna let it slide, though."

"Oh, thank god."

"What would you do without my forgiveness?"

"I have no idea."

You feel him sigh as he closes his eyes. "Good," he says sleepily.

"I love you."

His arm wraps around your chest and he mutters something that you just barely comprehend as a repetition of the thing you just said.


	2. Chapter 2

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Ok so this was supposed to cover a longer period of time but it kept getting longer and longer so I just posted it

You wake up the next morning to an unholy screeching sound.

You're out of bed and out of the room before you even register the fact that you're hearing the smoke alarm.

You skid to a halt in the kitchen entranceway to see Dave in pajama pants, looking as ashamed as if he'd been caught throwing babies off a roof, and Egbert running a potholder under the faucet.

"That's why we don't leave potholders right next to the flame," Egbert says patiently.

Dave nods. "Sorry, I don't -" He notices you and his face goes white. "Shit, I -"

"Next time you want to wake me up, you could just knock on my door or something, okay?"

"It was an accident," he mumbles. 

"What were you trying to _do_?"

"Make breakfast, but... um..." he waves at the mass of something horrible in the frying pan on the stove. "It didn't work out very well."

You roll your eyes as you open every window in the kitchen, letting in waves of early morning summer heat. 

Egbert sighs. "David, is there another frying pan?"

"Yeah - hold on -" Dave gropes around in a cabinet until something drops with a clang and he pulls out a second frying pan. 

"Wonderful. If you'll clean off your - ah - breakfast, I'll make eggs."

You consider going back to bed for a little while - it's only eight - but if Egbert's making eggs, you want some. So you take a seat at the kitchen table.

It's eight in the morning, Egbert is fully dressed, and Dave was trying to make  _breakfast_.

Your brain grinds to a halt as it tries to comprehend the sheer strangeness of it all.

It wheezes and dies when it realizes that Jake Harley is twenty feet away, still fast asleep, even through the smoke alarm.

You glance over at Dave, washing the pan.

Except he's not washing it.

It's sitting in the sink, the water is running, and he's holding a sponge, but he's not washing it. He's just standing there, staring at Egbert while he cracks eggs into a bowl.

You had a question for John, yesterday, that you didn't get to ask.

You stand. Dave starts and begins energetically scrubbing the pan. 

"I'm gonna go get dressed," You say for his benefit as you walk out of the room, pass the man sleeping like he's dead on your couch, and jog up the stairs.

John's head is covered by the blankets, and he groans as you come in. "Don't you dare make me get up, I  _checked_ the clock and it's  _early_ and there is  _no reason_ for me to be awake, the smoke alarm shut off, we're not dying - I don't think - and I'm  _tired_ -"

"John. Quick question. How open do you think your dad would be to the idea of a relationship with Dave?"

You've never seen him sit up so fast.

He stares at you, blinks a couple times, puts on his glasses, and stares at you some more. "What?"

"What's the likelihood of your dad dating Dave?"

John holds his arms out to you. "Come here, Dirk. I can see that something has altered your mental state. I want you to know that I love you and that we'll get through this together."

You roll your eyes as you sit on the bed. "I'm serious."

"I don't even know what you're talking about!" He exclaims.

"Shh, shh. Think about it. You said that after your dad gets to know someone, he starts calling them their preferred name, so why the fuck does he still call Dave  _David_? Wanna know why the smoke alarm went off? Dave set a potholder on fire trying to make breakfast. He's never once tried to make breakfast if he didn't absolutely have to. Feel free to explain to me how your dad got there before I did. And another thing. Dave's  _acting_ like he's got a crush. He actually shuts up around people he likes, and he jumps at  _every_ chance to see them. He was dead silent the whole way home yesterday, and you can't tell me he hasn't been spending time with your dad. So. Is your dad gonna break my brother's heart or not?"

"But..." John says, shock plastered all over his face. "But... but that's... but... why?"

"Why what?"

" _W_ _hy_?"

You raise your eyebrows. "Well,  _you're_ articulate this morning."

He's paying so little attention to you that you don't even get smacked for that. "Who would... Dave is... but... my  _dad_?"

"Still not making much sense."

You do get whacked for that one, although it's much more half-hearted than usual. You grab his hand and hold it, tracing lines across his palm while he stares, wide-eyed, at the wall. 

"Who would want to date my  _dad_?" He manages, after several seconds of opening and closing his mouth like a fish.

"Dave, apparently. Unless I'm wrong. Which I might be. Maybe he's just acting weird because he graduated."

"My dad is  _boring_!" He says, eyes pleading with you to laugh and say that the signs point to Egbert and Dave hating each other.

"Not really, actually. He's just quiet. And mostly unwilling to talk unless you ask questions first."

"Old!"

"Only a few years older than I am."

"But - Dave had a problem with  _me_ dating  _you_ , and the two of you are just brothers, so - hold on." His eyes gleam as he pushes the blankets aside. "He made such a big deal out of us dating, and now  _he's_ -"

"No, no, no," you say, grabbing his arm and tugging him back into bed as he swings his legs off the bed, presumably to go make Dave's life hell. "Don't you dare go down there screaming about justice. For one thing, you, of all people,  _cannot_ complain about  _this_. For another thing, I don't know if I'm right, and if I'm wrong, we're both going to look like the most fucked-up idiots outside of a Texan sex ed class. And even if I  _am_ right, I really have no idea if your dad knows, and -"

"But you're the one who pointed out that my dad still calls him David!" He says excitedly.

"But I don't know if that means anything! And if it does, it might mean that your dad's trying to put some space between him and Dave because  _he's_ not okay with it." You find yourself grinning at the mischievous expression on his face.

"God I hope you're right, I'm going to give Dave  _so_ much shit for this, my dad's like five or six years older than you are and he's not even my  _brother_ he's my  _dad_ -"

His shit-eating grin is simultaneously the most seductive and the most adorable thing you've ever seen, and you can't help but lean forward to kiss it, because of course, the logical thing to do when you see something you like is make it disappear.

He kissses you back, and you grin against his lips as you wrap your arms around him. He twists and pushes you backwards, falling on top of you, his knee pushing down between yours.

Something thumps on the steps.

John rolls off of you, and you sit up.

Jake bursts through the door. "Jimmy says eggs are ready!"

"Ok. We'll be down in a minute, Uncle Jake!"

John grins like a maniac until Jake backs out of the room, before turning to you with the most annoyed expression you've ever seen on his face. You really can't blame him.

"I'm going to give Jake English a new nickname," you mutter as you pull on a t-shirt. "The Walking Cock-Block."

John sniggers. "Can I call him that?"

"Not in front of your dad. Or Dave."

"Got it."

He follows you downstairs, the smell of eggs not quite hiding the smell of burnt whatever-the-fuck Dave had tried to make.

"Oh my god, what was he trying to  _make_?" John hisses. 

"I have no idea and I'm not asking."

You take a seat at the table and John sits next to you.

You watch him try to hide a smirk as he watches Dave insist on cleaning the pan Egbert used. "Wow, you're big on cleaning now you've graduated," he says innocently. "When did that happen? Last time I went into your dorm, it was a wreck. Did Dirk offer to pay you if you cleaned or something?"

Dave flushes and stops trying to clean the pan. Egbert takes over with a small smile. You kick John under the table. He doesn't even try to look guilty. 

Jake, of course, is entirely oblivious, and spends the entire breakfast monopolizing John's attention. 

John fails to keep the annoyance off his face.

"Mr. Strider, I'm afraid I never did quite get the hang of your dishwasher. If you wouldn't mind helping me clean up?"

"Yeah, of course," you say after a moment. When was the last time you  _didn't_ help him clean up? This  _is_ your house, isn't it? The place you generally clean? 

John stands. "Dave, didn't you say you got some new video game?"

"Yeah, um -"

"I bet I can beat you."

"Oh  _hell_ no you can't -"

"You haven't had time to practice, I totally can -"

Dave pushes his chair back as he stands. "Wanna bet?"

"Fu - uh - heck yeah."

"Whoever loses has to do the other's laundry."

"You're on." 

They shake hands and head for the living room. Jake follows, boasting loudly that he can take them both.

You look at Egbert.

"Mr. Strider, I would like to apologize in advance for my cousin's behavior for the rest of the week, and for the way he's acted in the past twenty-four hours," he begins, speaking quietly so the others can't hear. "Jake is..." He sighs. "Jake has wanted a son for as long as I can remember. He was happy with his two girls, of course, but when John was born, Jake took it as a sign that he was meant to teach John all the things I wouldn't: how to shoot a gun, how to live in nature, how to appreciate the... more lively parts of life that I generally choose not to partake in. Now, obviously, none of these things stuck. Jake, as is his custom, was frustrated for a little while, and then accepted it whole-heartedly, and became... overprotective of John. I believe he has the notion that those who cannot wield a gun or survive in the wilderness with nothing but the clothes on their back are in severe need of help; he certainly taught Jade and Jane these things, and to be perfectly honest - although I have to ask that you never tell him I said this - I believe Jade has gotten better than he is with a gun." He sighs again. "I have also come to the conclusion that he believes my parenting style to be a little too hands-off. In some cases, he tries to supersede my decisions, and I believe this is one of them."

"He thinks you had a decision to make?" You ask incredulously. "He does realize that I'm dating John, not you, correct?"

He actually cracks a smile. "No; I think he is under the impression that I have power over my son, and that if I had tried harder, or had been angrier when I became aware of your relationship, or had prevented John from seeing you afterwards - perhaps forced him to transfer - that I somehow could have accomplished something other than driving my son away from me and forcing him to lie and sneak around me to continue his relationship with you."

"And he's still up in arms about this because...?" You prompt.

"Ah - he is - unable to see why you would ever want to date someone so much younger than you. He puts quite a bit of stock in age and experience, and sees those in college as young, inexperienced, children, to be taught and guided through their twenties, as opposed to particularly poor adults with little life experience but a fast-growing understanding of themselves and the world. He was incredibly angry when he found out about your relationship - angrier than I was, in fact - and, while John did manage to convince Jake of his love for you, he did not manage to convince him that you love John back."

"Well then, what does he think I'm doing, staying with him for three years?" You ask, annoyed.

Egbert rubs his forehead. "While I am unable to recreate his lengthy rant, I can certainly tell you that it involved the phrases 'perverted freak' as well as other, more vulgar phrases that all boil down to the fear that, first of all, you have incredibly dishonorable intentions regarding your relationship, and second of all, you fully plan on breaking John's heart."

You're not sure what to do with this information.

He didn't actually  _do_ anything about his fear.

You don't  _think_ he did, anyway.

"Did he say that to John?"

Egbert shakes his head. "Not to my knowledge. I know he asked John quite a few questions about your relationship, but he never asked any questions that coarse. As far as I am aware, John did not hear and does not know of Jake's monologue discussing his perception of your relationship, or of Jake's reasons for disliking you, only that Jake takes issue with the age difference."

You shrug. "Well, he's not doing anything but being incredibly annoying, so there's no harm done. Thank you for telling me."

"I would have told John, but I see no reason to hurt his relationship with his uncle," Egbert says. "However, I realize that he is an adult now, and deserves to know what is going on in his family. As such, I'd like to leave the decision to tell him or not to your discretion."

Oh good. So it's your call, whether or not you wreck John's relationship with Jake. "I'll think about it."

Dave wanders in. "Dude, did you do  _any_ cleaning? The table's still a wreck."

"What're you doing in here? I thought you were playing a video game?"

"I lost. Jake took over, he's playing against John now."

"You  _lost_? At a  _video game_?"

He shrugs, a flush creeping into his cheeks. "It's a new one, I haven't had time to get good at it yet."

He's lying. He's never once lost anything but Mario Cart to John. 

You stand. "Well, since you're in here, you can help clean up." 

"Okay."

The last time he agreed to clean something without grumbling about it, you'd bribed him. 

You fight a grin as you walk out.

John is chewing on his bottom lip, his forehead creased in concentration as he weaves through a forest, popping out from behind trees to shoot at enemy soldiers and Jake. He breaks concentration to grin at you, though.

Stupid of him, to look away. He misses a soldier.

Jake notices his lapse in concentration and looks up.

John grins happily as he runs out into the open, gun aimed at another soldier. He shoots. 

Jake's screen blinks and goes black.

Smart of him, to look away. He drew Jake's attention to you, so Jake wasn't paying attention to  _him_ as he ran out for the kill shot.

"Gosh damnit!" Jake exclaims.

You can practically hear Egbert sigh over his language.

"Dirk's turn," John decides.

"It's been a pretty long time since I've played a video game," you warn him. "You sure you wanna play me?"

John's grin turns predatory. "Perfect."

Jake hands you the controller, but doesn't move, forcing you to sit in another chair instead of on the couch, where you'd have a better view of the screen.

Nothing you can't handle.

You start the game, absentmindedly picking your gun and reading through the instructions. 

Egbert makes a little more sense now, in a strange way. 

John said once, a few years back, that his dad had just - checked out one day. Egbert described it as 'hands-off,' had thought of it as allowing John to make his own decisions and grow up. 

That, you will tell John. You doubt Egbert told him, or realized it was something John needed to know. 

What to tell him about Jake?

You don't know very much as it is; Egbert didn't tell you everything, which was probably for the best. You don't particularly want to hate Jake English, and you have the feeling that if you knew everything, you would. 

As you shoot at some douchebag with a camouflage helmet, you realize what bothers you about Jake: you'd literally never heard of him, before John told you who'd be coming to graduation. Jake never tried to contact you, never visited, never did jack shit about his assumptions, and he still has the balls to insert himself into your personal business like he thinks he might accomplish something.

You beat John by a mile.

"You said you hadn't played in a while!" He shrieks indignantly.

You smirk. "Yeah, once I beat every game we owned, they got a little boring."

He sticks his tongue out at you. You laugh. 

He's cute as all hell when he does that.

John passes the controller to Jake. "I lost. Your turn."

"Woah there, I don't think -" Jake begins.

"Rules of the game. You have to play Dirk now."

"Now, I'd love to, but -"

"Then go ahead and play!" John shoves the controller into Jake's hands.

He takes it reluctantly. "Well, Strider, I guess it's you and me now."

"I guess it is."

You congratulate yourself for the least original comeback you've ever given.

He takes control, starting the game and flicking through the instructions at his pace. You don't mind. You're a fast reader. 

John stands and stretches, lifting his shirt a little to expose his stomach just above his hipbones.

He's gotta be doing it on purpose. 

The instructions finish and the game begins.

John comes to stand behind your chair. He leans down so his mouth is by your ear. "Dave's been in there for a pretty long time," he says quietly.

"Yeah."

"What if -"

"Don't you dare go in there."

"I wasn't!" He says defensively. "But -"

"No."

"I didn't even get to finish!"

You glance at him out of the corner of your eye. "Were you going to suggest something good?"

He grins guiltily. "Maybe not."

You don't respond, too busy evading a trap. 

John's lips brush against the shell of your ear.

What is he trying to do? Who does he want to lose, you or Jake? Who is he trying to distract?

"Whose team are you on?" You mutter.

"Not quite sure," he says happily as he rests his chin on the top of your head.

"You have a really pointy chin."

"Good."

You shoot Jake's character.

That was easy.

You glance over and watch his eyes flick from you to the TV screen. "Good game, Strider."

"He lost. Pretty sure that means it's your turn, John."

John takes the controller and sits on the armrest of your chair. "Start."

He spends the first half of the game sliding into your lap in an attempt to obstruct your vision, sitting up as straight as he can to get as much height as possible.

You rest your head on his shoulder. 

He slowly begins leaning to one side in an attempt to obstruct your view.

You bring your hands and controller up in front of his eyes.

Dave walks in as John is actively attempting to elbow you in the face. "Dude, if you break my brother's nose and I have to put up with him crying because his perfect face is damaged I will personally kick you out of the house," he says dispassionately.

"Aw, you think my face is perfect?" You ask as you push John to one side.

"No, but you do."

Short sentences, flat tone: Dave's angry, but not about something he's willing to talk about. Egbert's still in the kitchen.

"Where's my dad?" John asks casually, rearranging himself so he's lying comfortably across your lap, elbow propped up on the armrest.

"In the kitchen."

You hear your electric mixer start up and frown. "Is he baking?"

"Yeah. He says we should invite Roxy and them over for lunch and brownies."

"Okay."

He doesn't leave.

"You wanna call them?"

"Oh. Yeah."

You beat John.

"You suck."

You consider making a joke, but Jake is trying to glare a hole through your head, and Dave is still standing there. "Here, someone play, I'll call Rox."

Dave takes the controller and slumps into a chair.

"John. You're lying on my phone."

"Sucks."

It takes you a full two minutes to maneuver around him to pull your phone out of your pocket. You get your revenge, though - you throw off his kill shot, buying Dave an extra couple minutes. 

Roxy picks up on the first ring. "Dirky! Thank god. Please, please help, Jane and Jade keep talking to me, I don't know how to handle that, I've practically lived alone my whole life -"

"You've lived with Rose -"

"Like I said, I've practically lived alone my whole life, and I always thought having a sister I didn't have to coax out of her room would be fun but there are  _three other people_ downstairs and I can't deal with this -"

"Egbert's making brownies -"

"Pot brownies?"

"What? No - I wish - no, normal brownies - and you guys should come over for lunch, and until the end of the day, if you'd like."

"Hallelujah, you're saving me from a painful death here, we'll be over as soon as we can," she assures you.

"The day you get here on time, I'll have a heart attack."

Jake mutters something about heart attacks being caused by old age.

"Just you watch, I'll be there on time," she swears.

So you hang up and wait.

Dave wins, and John passes the controller to Jake.

Minutes tick by.

Jake loses. John decides that you should play.

Your game against Dave lasts half an hour.

Egbert stands in the doorway, but opts not to sit.

John falls asleep in your lap, effectively trapping you.

You play Jake, who loses, grumbles about being hungry, and gets up to hunt down crackers.

Your phone buzzes. "Roxy says she and the ladies are running to the mall, and she'll be here for dinner instead."

Jake throws up his hands and begins loudly complaining about Roxy's fickle heart.

You lift John and place him back on your chair so you can make sandwiches. 

Egbert covers the brownies.

He doesn't speak.

You open your mouth six different times to ask if he and Dave are having problems, but nothing comes out.

You wonder idly about what Jake would do if Dave and Egbert started dating.

You wonder, less idly, if you'd have to start calling him 'James.'

You return to the living room with sandwiches, which John wakes up for. He insists on continuing to sit in your lap, though, citing as his reason the fact that with two chairs and a couch and five people, him sitting on your lap was the best way to keep everyone comfortable. 

Dave doesn't react.

"Dave is acting weird," John whispers.

"So's your dad."

"He is?"

"Quieter than usual."

"Is he usually loud?"

"No, but he's usually not this quiet."

You switch to a more lighthearted game.

It doesn't help.

The mood gets progressively darker.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Don't ask me what the video game is. I know nothing about video games and made one up.


	3. Chapter 3

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Jake. Just. Jake.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Judging by canon, Jake's pretty fucking bad with relationships. If he was that bad as a kid, what would happen if he grew up and thought he had 'experience' with relationships?

Roxy doesn't knock. She never has, and probably never will. She just throws the door open, walking in like she's the guest of honor and everyone's been waiting for her.

And considering the tension and silence, you all  _have_ been waiting for her.

"Have you guys really been playing video games for  _hours_?" She asks disbelievingly.

"Of course they have," Rose says. "Look at them. Not one of them could carry a conversation." 

Jade rolls her eyes. "That's not true, my dad never shuts up."

Roxy leans on the back of your chair. "Aw, aren't you two so adorable."

John makes a face at her.

"We're adorable as fuck," you respond.

"Johnny, I still don't have a nickname for you," she says pensively. "Davey is Davey Jones, Dirky is the Smuppetteer, what's your nickname?"

"Don't you mean  _puppetteer_?" Jane asks.

"He makes  _smuppets_ , not  _puppets_. Although, technically, smuppets  _are_ puppets, just a different  _kind_ \- like, a subdivision of puppets. But still."

"Puppets? I thought he made robots?" Jake asks.

"Well, robots too, but smuppets are his main source of income."

"Smuppets?" Egbert asks, speaking for the first time in hours.

"Yeah -"

"Rox - they - um -"

"Dirky?" She interrupts your stuttering. "Does Jaimy not know what smuppets are?"

John grins at your discomfort. He shouldn't. He's about to get dragged into this himself. 

"No, no we don't know what smuppets are," Jake says, giving Roxy his full attention. "Why? What are they?"

Rose laughs. "Dirk didn't know James's name, and James doesn't know about smuppets, and Roxy 'zipperlips' Lalonde spilled both secrets. Dave, perhaps you should document this, I believe this is the  _height_ of irony."

You almost feel bad for Roxy. She looks a little guilty. 

"Oh. Um."

Your head drops almost of its own accord.

"Smuppets are. Um. Sex toys."

You squeeze your eyes shut and wait.

John tries and fails to choke back a giggle.

"Um. Jake. Are you breathing?" Roxy asks. 

"I'm sorry, did you just say that Mr. Strider makes  _sex toys_?" Egbert asks tersely.

"This isn't exactly a new thing, I mean, he's literally been making them since he was fifteen. They got him  _and_  Dave through college  _and_ paid for this house," Roxy says, something resembling pride in her voice.

"John? Did you know about this?" 

John nods. "Since the first time I met him."

Egbert takes a deep breath. "Well, I can certainly understand your reluctance to tell me."

Your head snaps up so fast you get whiplash. That wasn't the response you expected. "What?"

His mouth does something that could almost be described as a smile. "You can relax, Mr. Strider. I won't overreact this time."

John pushes up on your chin. "You probably shouldn't let your mouth hang open like that."

Roxy huffs. "You know, you people should try something new.  _Talking_. Like  _normal human beings_. Wow. What an idea. What a thought." _  
_

"Jimmy," Jake says, "I don't think it's possible to _overreact_ to finding out that your son's  _boyfriend_ makes  _sex toys_ for a living!"

"Jake," Egbert says softly. "If John is comfortable with it, I have no reason to get involved."

"So what you're saying is, the twenty-two year old has enough experience to make these decisions?"

"Yes."

Dave stands, jumping up like someone had poked him in the back with a knife, and half-runs upstairs. 

Roxy frowns.

Egbert's hand grips the armrest so hard his knuckles turn white.

Jake doesn't even notice. "I don't think -"

"No, you don't," John says. "You  _don't_ think. Why are you asking my  _dad_ questions about  _my_ relationship?"

"A-ll righty then," Roxy mutters. "Jadey, Janey, I think it's time we go literally  _anywhere else_."

"If you're going to put me on the spot -" Jake says, drawing himself up.

John stands. "Yeah, I am."

Jake stands, which is really much more impressive than John standing. "I think that the most life experience you've ever had is going to college, and that you don't have enough experience to understand other people's motives."

"What the hell is that supposed to mean?" John yells, his voice rising half an octave. 

"That you're too young to think these things through!"

Egbert pushes himself out of his chair and heads for the kitchen. 

"Think  _what_ things through?"

He probably had the right idea.

"The idea that - well - Dirk Strider has no reason to date you except - well - um -"

John crosses his arms over his chest. "Well?"

Yup. Egbert  _definitely_ had the right idea.  _  
_

You head into the kitchen, where you find him chopping up broccoli. "I think it would be best if we just have pasta for dinner," he says calmly, as though he can't hear the shouting match in the next room.

You can, and you understand why telling John that Jake thought you didn't love him wasn't a good idea; not because John was so attached that every insult to you was an insult to him, but because it  _was_ an insult to him. It meant that John was too stupid to notice that the guy he'd been dating for three years wasn't in love with him, that he was too infatuated to see past the end of his nose, that he was too young and irresponsible to be in a relationship. 

You lean against the counter. "So what's up with Dave?"

Egbert nearly drops the knife. "What do you mean?"

"I mean, my brother's acting weird, and now he's acting angry, and I'd like to know why."

"I'm afraid I -"

"If you say you don't know what I'm talking about, I'm just gonna ask Dave, and I doubt I'll get a clear answer out of him."

He puts down the knife, staring at the chopped broccoli like it's the saddest thing he's ever seen. "I have never felt the need to convey my thoughts or emotions, and unfortunately, that tendancy is..." he pauses. "Things that made sense to me..." he stops again. "I said things that David misinterpreted, quite badly, and I don't know how to explain myself properly."

You nod. "Well, Dave's a pretty forgiving kid, if you wait until he's calmed down a little."

Egbert opens his mouth, but Jake storms in.

The dude literally has the worst timing in the  _universe_.

"John insists that you  _do_ , in fact, love him. I haven't seen any proof."

You wait, but that's apparently the end of the sentence. "So...?" You prompt, as John enters, eyes on you.

"So, I'd  _love_ to hear you say something to that effect."

Damn.

You rub your forehead. You're not good with emotions, not even with people you  _like_. How the hell are you supposed to  _talk_ about them?

"What, can't even say a simple 'I love him'?" Jake asks.

You snort. "If that's all you wanted, we wouldn't even be  _having_ this conversation."

You're not an  _emotions_ kind of guy. You're physical. A tactile kind of guy. Into things you can feel, see, definitively explain. You've  _got_ feelings, and you know you love John, but how the fuck are you supposed to explain that?

Seconds tick by.

"Um... Dirk?" John says, and it's the quiet anxiety in his voice that gets you talking. He shouldn't have to worry about whether or not you love him.

"I don't like things I can't feel." You grimace. There was probably a better way to start this, but you're on this track now, so you've got no choice but to stick with it. "I like robotics, working with parts, getting my hands greasy. Computer programming - something where I can type the commands, see the effect they have. I handmake every single smuppet I sell, always have and always will - until I get too old to sew, anyway. I didn't just stop talking to my parents when I turned eighteen, I moved halfway across the goddamn country. I lose touch with people who move away - fuck, I lose touch with people I don't talk to on a regular basis."

"John lives in  _New York_ ," Jake says, like you didn't know that. "Hear that, John? Can't go home, or he won't talk to you anymore."

You fight the urge to slap him. "I ain't finished." 

"I'm pretty sure you said enough," Jake says.

"No, I'm pretty damn sure I haven't. You gonna let me finish, or are you going to stand there like you just did John a favor by screwing him over for no goddamn reason?"

He waves a hand at you. "No, no. Never let it be said that Jake English didn't let a man stand up for himself!"

"As you've so  _kindly_ pointed out, John lives in New York. He's gone home, halfway across the country, and it didn't matter. For a good  _month and a half_ after I met him, I didn't talk to him at all, and it  _didn't matter_. If he left, right now, and came back in a year without talking to me once, I'd still be here, waiting. If something happened and I could only talk to him on the phone for the rest of my goddamn life, I'd be sitting next to the fucking phone all day long. If that ain't good enough for you, I don't know what is." _  
_

John grins so hard it looks moderately painful.

"But -  _why_?"

You wait, but again, Jake fails to realize that he he's not making sense. "But why, what?" 

"But - why - why him? He's the same age as your brother! Isn't that a little creepy?"

"Not particularly. He's still an adult."

"He's your brother's best friend!"

"I didn't know that when I met him. And in any case, Dave's cool with it."

"But - what is it about him that you have to ruin  _his_ life?"

You blink. John's face is covered in confusion, too, and it's a little comforting to know that you're not the only one who has no idea what English is talking about. "Sorry?"

"You're fifteen years older than he is. You're going to die before he does, you're going to get old long before he does, force him to take care of you and then live without you. How the dickens do you expect me to believe that you love him when you're going to do  _that_ to him?"

You don't know how to answer that.

Judging by John's expression, neither does he.

Egbert sets a pot of water on the stove. "Judging by the state of Mr. Strider's physical fitness in comparison to John's, he will be perfectly healthy for quite some time, and by the time his health becomes a problem, John's will have done the same."

John looks affronted. "I'm not  _that_ out of shape!"

"I didn't say you were. I merely pointed out that Mr. Strider takes much more care to stay fit than you do."

John's eyes graze up and down your body. "Oh. Okay."

He's licking his lips again.

You hate it when he does that. He never does it at a convenient time. 

Roxy pokes her head in. "Is the coast clear?" She whisper-yells.

"No, it's a little foggy."

"Is it Jake's fault?"

"Yes."

"Everything's his fault."

"That might be stretching it a little, Miss Lalonde."

"Aw, I like Jaimy, he calls me 'Miss Lalonde.' I sound like a lady."

Egbert smiles a little at her. "You are."

She laughs. "That's fuckin' right, I am." She withdraws her head, and you hear her scream up the stairs, "Coast is relatively clear! You can come down now!" She sticks her head back in. "By the way, what's up with Davey? We've been trying to cheer him up, but he seems kinda down."

"No idea," You say, covering for Egbert, who drops the box of pasta. 

"Right. I'll pretend you're not lying to Mama Lalonde."

You shrug. "Sounds good to me."

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I'm gonna finish the day in the next chapter, I swear.


	4. Chapter 4

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> I actually managed to finish out this day. The one that's been going on since chapter two. That one.  
> There's smut in this one, though, which makes it exciting.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> The more flustered Dad gets, the more he talks like a character out of a Jane Austen novel.

Dinner is incredibly  _loud_.

Yesterday, you thought it was just because you were in a restaurant.

Today, you realize you were wrong.

Roxy, Jade, Jane, and Jake together make the loudest table imaginable, making up for Dave's silence and blank expression, Egbert's total avoidance of Dave's eyes, John's thoughtful silence, and your inability to get a word in. 

"Dirk, did you really make this?" Roxy asks in confusion.

"Nah, Egbert did."

She looks at him, sitting next to her, with round eyes. "Shit, you can cook? Would you be willing to move in with me? 'Cause I couldn't cook to save my life." She frowns. "Actually, now that I think about it, that's a pretty weird way to put things. Why would being in a life-or-death situation suddenly give you new skills?" She stares at her plate like it confuses her. 

"Adrenaline?" Jane suggests.

"Don't most people panic under pressure, though?" Jade points out.

"Actually, it depends," Rose cuts in. "If it's something you've done many times before, the pressure of an audience can help you perform better. If it's something that you've never done before, or that you've only done once or twice, pressure will break you."

"That's a sweet way of putting it, Rosey."

"Thank you. I thought so too."

Dinner ends, but the meal doesn't. 

Egbert begins clearing off the table, and you help him, nodding at Roxy in acknowledgment of her request for wine and ice cream.

Egbert takes the dishes out of your hands. "Why don't you bring Miss Lalonde her wine?"

"She can wait. What'd you say to Dave that he misinterpreted?"

"That's a personal issue."

"Okay, but my brother looks like he's been repeatedly kicked in the face, you drop something every time someone mentions him, and knowing you, you won't ever talk to Dave about it and the two of you will just avoid each other for the rest of your lives, which is gonna make life miserable for John and me  _and_ you and Dave. So why don't you just tell me, and I'll see if I can talk to him? Or get him to talk to you?"

He takes a deep breath. "David - David and I - two years ago -"

You hold up a hand. "Wait. Two years ago? I know the two of you are borderline-dating, but  _two years ago_?"

He nods, going slightly red around the collar. "Around two years ago, David broached the idea of a relationship. I told him that I was uncomfortable with the thought of dating a college student. He, of course, didn't drop the subject, asking me to clarify, and the discussion ended with me promising to reconsider the notion after he graduated."

You raise your eyebrows. "He didn't just take 'no' for an answer?" You'd told him, multiple times, about the importance of consent and the douchiness of being pushy. He should've known to stop.

Egbert's mouth twitches. "He would have. He told me multiple times that if the answer was no, I could just say so. Unfortunately, I seem to be unable to tell him no with regards to anything, and that moment proved no exception. So I put off the question, believing that by the time he graduated, he would have found someone else upon whom to bestow his affections. Clearly, I was incorrect, and last night, he brought up the subject once more."

"But you didn't say anything bad  _last_ night. The kid was trying to make  _breakfast_ this morning."

"Last night, I told him that it was late, and not the proper time for discussions."

He stops.

His whole family is like English. Not one of them will talk unless you prompt them. "And earlier today?"

"I said that he was young, and I didn't want to steal him."

"What?"

"I said that he is young and I don't want to steal him."

"Yeah, that's what I thought you said, but I really don't know what you mean."

"I mean, he has his entire life ahead of him, and he's - he - he deserves better than me. I'm twenty years his senior, and the life I lead is incredibly boring. I enjoy it, and I doubt I could alter it - certainly, I am not one for going out to bars or clubs. He deserves someone his age, with his interests, and doubtless there is someone out there far more suited to him than I am. I do not want to steal him from that person, and I do not want to force him into my quiet lifestyle."

He says it in the same pleasant tone he always uses, but his hands are shaking.

You pretend you didn't see. 

"Right. Well, first of all, you're an idiot if you don't think Dave knows you're not going out clubbing every weekend. He's not exactly a big partier himself. Second of all, we all know the  _age_ thing is entirely irrelevant. Third of all, the hypothetical future person isn't here yet, and you and Dave  _are_." You find Roxy's wine. "Fourth of all, it's pretty fuckin' presumptuous of you to say that you're 'stealing' him from someone when he's an autonomous adult. Dave likes you, waited two _years_ for you. If you don't like him, say so. If you do, don't leave him hanging." You dig the ice cream out of the freezer. "You don't need my help for this one."

You grab bowls and spoons and head out into the dining room. Roxy shrieks with joy when she sees the ice cream.

Egbert comes back in a few minutes later with a bottle of whiskey. 

Roxy quickly makes him her new drinking buddy, and half an hour later, when the ice cream is gone and the wine bottle is nearly empty and John's hand is grazing over your thigh, you look at Egbert and realize that he's probably had more to drink in the past half-hour than he's ever had in his entire life. He's holding it together pretty well, though, the biggest difference being the fact that he's actually smiling sometimes, so you ignore it. 

"We should have a movie night!" Jake suggests excitedly. "There are so many movies I want to watch!"

Dave's jaw drops as Jake starts listing movies.

"Dad, maybe not tonight," Jane says, patting his arm.

"Yeah, I don't think now is really the time, it's getting late and it would take a  _really_ long time to watch all those movies," Jade says with a glance at the clock.

"Well not  _all_ of them, of course, just a couple..."

The noise level picks up.

"He's trying to keep us up late again, isn't he," John mutters.

"Yup."

"Okay, so I know you were kidding earlier, but he is literally a walking cockblock," he says.

Jade chokes on her drink.

The table goes silent. 

Roxy looks like Christmas came early.

John goes bright red. 

All eyes turn to Egbert.

He looks at John, frowning, like he's confused, and says, "You little shit."

Roxy cackles. 

John looks like he's been hit with a brick. "Did my dad...  _curse_?" 

Jade laughs. 

"Jesus Christ, he just cursed, he's drunk, Roxy how much of that shit did you  _give_ him, he's fuckin' plastered," Dave says.

"Did you just call me a walking cockblock?" Jake asks, and he's so behind, he's so goddamn late, he's just getting that  _now_ and it strikes you as hysterical and you can't help it, you break down and laugh, avoiding John's accusatory gaze as you double over, arms wrapped around your stomach, because John's an idiot and Jake's an idiot and James Egbert just called his son a  _little shit_ and you  _wish_ you had that on camera, oh god -

"Dirk said it first," John says quickly.

You straighten up, wiping your shades on your shirt and the tears out of your eyes. "I did, I did, it ain't all his fault. Of course,  _he's_ the one who said it just now, not me, so -"

"What the devil-fucking dickens is wrong with your eyes!" Jake exclaims.

It takes you a minute to remember that Jake's never seen them. "They're orange."

"I see that!"

"Dad, that's a little rude," Jane interjects.

"He just called me a  _walking cockblock_!" Jake says, his voice rising a little.

"Um... I hate to break this to you, but..." Jade begins, looking down at her napkin. "He... he's  _probably_ right."

Egbert nods. "Jade's correct."

"I'm impressed," Rose says. "You managed to forget the phenomenon of Dirk's eyes very quickly."

"That's right! What happened to them?"

Rose smiles at you, her way of saying "you're welcome" for switching the subject to something slightly less uncomfortable.

"Nothing  _happened_ to them, they've always been this way."

"Do you have orange eyes too?" Jake asks Dave.

"Nah, mine are cooler." He pushes his shades down the bridge of his nose and blinks at Jake over the top of them.

"Your's are red!" 

"I'm impressed yet again, Mr. Harley. You've managed to state the obvious in as prosaic a way possible," Rose says with a smile.

"He does that," Egbert says.

Dave glances at him.

John glances at you.

You feel like the main character in a movie - the only one who knows what's going on at any given point in time. "Egbert, I think it's probably time for you to go upstairs."

He frowns. "Yes, I think you might be right."

He wavers when he stands up.

"Holy shit, are you that drunk?" Roxy asks in disbelief. "I didn't give you  _that_ much -"

"Rox, look at the damn whiskey bottle." You point at the half-empty bottle. "And the wine bottle. Both of them were full when they came in here, and you and he are the only ones who drank."

She stares in disappointment at the bottles. "Oops. Sorry, Jaimy, I didn't realize I gave you that much."

He waves a hand at her slowly. "It was not your fault."

He seems to have trouble walking. 

Dave's jaw twitches.

You stand. "Why don't I help you get up the stairs? It would suck ass if you ended up in the hospital because you fell down them."

"Yeah, be careful on the stairs, dude," Dave says anxiously.

You grab Egbert's upper arm and guide him out of the dining room and up the stairs. "Not something I ever thought I'd be helping you with."

"You were right."

"What?"

His head hangs. "I was an asshole."

"Did you get drunk just because you feel bad for being an idiot?" You ask disbelievingly.

"Miss Lalonde helped."

He sits down on his bed. "I think I'll be fine from here."

You fight the urge to laugh. You weren't planning on helping him past that. You don't like him  _that_ much. "All right." You walk out the door and walk right into Dave. 

"Is -"

You push him back a little. Not that Egbert'll hear you anyway. He's probably out cold already. "So. Davey. About you and Egbert."

He flushes. "Dude, it's -"

"If you say it's nothing I am gonna be pissed."

He hesitates. "Are you angry?"

You snort. "Kid, I don't give a shit. John doesn't either, actually."

His entire upper body relaxes, then his head snaps back up. "Wait. John knows?"

"Well, I had to point it out, but yeah. Anyway. Egbert told me what he said earlier, and basically, it's all bullshit and he he feels like an ass and will probably wallow in self-hatred until you slap him out of it. So you go do what you gotta do, as long as I don't know about it and you make sure to break the news to English in front of me, because I'd love to see his face." 

Dave wraps his arms around you. You pat his back. "Should I assume that this is why you didn't know what you'd do after graduation? Because you wanted to move up to New York but didn't know if he'd take you in?"

He nods.

"And John didn't know if he was staying down here right after graduation because he was worried you'd still be here and he didn't want things to be awkward?"

He nods.

You sigh. "We should all take lessons from Roxy and just talk things out as soon as they happen."

He nods again. 

"So I guess you'll be moving up to New York, so long as Egbert doesn't turn into an absolute idiot when the clock strikes twelve."

"Yup."

You hug him harder and press your face into his hair. Your throat feels tight. Your little brother, hours away in New York, going job hunting without you, getting older without you. 

But he'll be happy. And up there, his red eyes won't get him instantly rejected from jobs. And he'll be able to get a job just fine; he can write, he can speak well - when he tries - he's friendly, and his films are masterpieces. He'll be fine. You got to raise him and spend eighteen years watching him grow and work at his interests, and now, you suppose, it's time to let him go.

You take a deep breath. "Well, you know where to find me if you ever wanna come visit."

"Psh. You're the one with the money, you should come up to NY to visit."

You choke out a laugh. "Yeah, and I guess you're the one with the fear of flying, too." You roughly tousle his hair. "Yeah, John and I will probably be up to visit more than you'll be down here."

"We'll have to alternate holidays. Like normal families."

"At least when we alternate, we'll be seeing the same people. Just in different places. Won't have to skip holidays. And when you come visit? Don't you  _dare_ bring English."

He laughs. "Maybe I can get Rose to film me telling English I'm dating James. Maybe he'll pass out."

You frown as something occurs to you. "Don't you dare marry Egbert. That'll make you John's dad."

Dave's face goes white. "Oh,  _fuck_ that."

"Yeah. Now go keep Egbert from puking on my rug."

He grimaces. "Tell Roxy I said I hate her."

"Yes, Sir," you say, saluting him as you step back. 

He passes you, and you hear him muttering under his breath as he enters the room.

You take a couple deep breaths, clearing the lump from your throat, and head downstairs.

"So, is Jaimy still alive?" Roxy asks when you enter the dining room. 

"Somewhat."

"Oh. Damn."

"It's not your fault. He's a grown man, he should be watching how much he drinks."

You take your seat next to John. 

The noise level rises again.

"Soooooo?" John mutters. "What's going on?"

"A little hard to tell, considering your father's current state of 'drunk and asleep,' but it's probably gonna turn out just fine."

John grins. 

Roxy, Rose, Jade, and Jane don't leave until a little after ten - and they take Jake with them, planning a movie night. You wave at them from the door as Roxy's car pulls away, Roxy winking at you like she knows precisely what's going to happen after she leaves.

She's right, of course.

You close the door and turn around and John is there, kissing you, tasting like chocolate chip mint ice cream and the taste that you still can't name because you've never tasted it anywhere but his lips. He holds your face in his hands, kissing you like your mouth is keeping him alive, nipping at you and brushing his tongue against yours. He wraps his legs around you and you fit your hands under his ass, lifting him and holding him against you as you head up the stairs. He makes a tiny noise of annoyance as his glasses push against yours, and he pulls your shades off, his eyes meeting yours for half a second, electric blue against orange, before pressing his mouth to yours again. 

You pause at the top of the staircase.

Muted voices are coming from Dave's room.

"Are they  _awake_?" John hisses.

"Yup."

"His room is  _right next to yours_ -"

You head towards the bathroom instead.

John starts the shower as you dig around under the sink, pulling out lube and an extra condom from last time.

The two of you don't make it to the bed very often.

You turn to find him shirtless already, and kicking his pants to the side. His hands slide your zipper down with practiced ease, and as you pull your shirt over your head, his mouth finds one of the faded scars from the accident three years ago, a curved white line across your ribs. You shudder as your hand tangles in his hair. His mouth moves down to your hipbones, and then to your dick, his warm, wet mouth sliding down over your shaft. 

The image of his lips around the base of your dick is one you've seen tons of times.

That doesn't mean you're used to it. 

His eyes meet yours, and he presses his tongue flat against the underside of your cock and pulls his mouth up.

You can't breathe. 

He kisses his way up your stomach and laves at your nipples.

You drag his face up to yours to thrust your tongue inside his mouth, grabbing his ass and pulling him against you, growling as his fingers rake down your back.

He grabs the condom off the sink and rolls it down your dick, fingers squeezing the base of your cock and working their way up.

You push him backwards, lifting him so he doesn't fall over when his knees hit the edge of the bathtub, grab the lube, and step in after him. He pulls the curtain shut, keeping the heat in.

You push him face-first against the wall and kiss and bite your way down his back, trailing your fingers down his ribs, watching goosebumps appear where your fingers pass, listening to him moan as you press your mouth to the dip at the bottom of his back.

He pushes his ass back and his forehead into the wall.

You oblige his unspoken request, and trace delicate circles around his asshole with your tongue, hands gently wrapped around his calves so you can feel his legs shudder with the effort of holding himself up.

You press your tongue inside him. 

He moans your name.

God, your name is beautiful when he says it.

You uncap the lube and coat your fingers with it.

You push in the tip of your finger.

He pushes his ass back against you.

You press it in up to the knuckle, listening to his heavy breathing, the sounds amplified by the bathtub walls. 

He reaches one hand down to grab his cock.

You push a second finger in.

"Oh god Dirk -"

You straighten up and kiss his neck, hot water pounding against your back.

You continue stretching him out, and when he starts jerking himself off, you grab his arm and twist it up behind his back.

He gasps, and you push him against the wall, using your chest to hold his arm in place, and pull his head back so you can kiss him, pushing a third finger inside him. 

"I'm ready, Dirk, oh god I'm ready -" he gasps into your mouth, pushing his ass backwards and arching against you to give you more space to work.

You slide into him.

He inhales sharply.

You hold perfectly still.

He rocks back against you.

You don't move.

"Dammit Dirk -"

You kiss the base of his neck. "Yes?"

"Why can't you just -"

You lick your way up his throat. "Just what?" You nibble on his ear lobe.

"Fuck me!" He whines, rolling his hips.

"Sorry, what?" You kiss what you can reach of his jawline.

"Fuck me,  _please_!"

You smile against his skin. "Don't be too loud, we have guests."

You pull out and smash back into him.

He whimpers and presses his face and forearm into the wall for support.

You pound into him, wrapping one arm around his waist and lifting him slightly to take some of the pressure off his bad ankle, using your other hand to jerk him off, pressing your face into his throat, feeling the vibrations of his moans as they work their way out of his mouth. You kiss your way down and across his shoulder, using his body to muffle your moans, whispering his name into his skin, pressing your forehead into his shoulder so you can watch his feet stretch and his toes curl and push against the floor, pulling him closer to you, always closer, surrounded by the heat of the water and the heat of his body, wanting him, more of him, all of him, feeling your muscles tighten as he clenches around you and buries his face in his arm to silence his scream as he cums, shuddering, over your hand and his own stomach, feeling heat pool in your stomach and explode out of you as his body relaxes, losing your understanding of the world as your senses stop taking in information that isn't related to John's warmth, John's skin, John's stomach expanding and contracting as he fights to deepen his breath. 

A moment or two later, you pull out of him and set him down, gently tugging him backwards until he's under the stream of water. He turns and kisses you, fingers working to pull the condom off of you. You take it from him, tie it off, and pull open the shower curtain so you can drop the condom into the wastebasket, making a mental note to cover it with tissues or something so no one sees it. 

You close the shower curtain and turn to see John, grinning at you, shampoo bottle in hand.

"There is  _no way_ , I am taller than you are -"

He looks pointedly at the ground.

You consider arguing with him, remember how bad you are at telling him no, turn, sit, and reflect on the choices that led to you, a grown-ass thirty-seven year old man, sitting on the floor of a bathtub, with a twenty-two year old washing your hair. 

Ten minutes later, you're still sitting there, with absolutely no idea how he's having this much fum with your goddamn hair. 

John laughs as he molds your hair into sudsy spikes.

"Y'know, this much shampoo is bad for my hair."

John snickers. "It's okay, I'll love you even if it all falls out."

"It'd better not fall out, I take good fuckin' care of my hair."

"And then you turned it over to me!" He says cheerfully. 

"Mistake of my life."

"Shut your eyes and hold your breath."

You do as you're told, and he pushes your head forward and washes out the shampoo. 

He doesn't pull your head back up for several seconds.

"You know," you say pointedly after you get your breath back, "usually, if you wash soap out of your hair, you tilt your head backwards so you can  _breathe_."

"Fine, then turn around."

You begin questioning your life choices as you scoot around in a small circle on the floor of your own goddamn bathtub. You are the owner of this house and perfectly capable of standing up and washing your own freaking hair. You should not be reduced to this. 

John's dick is in your face. 

That's nice.

Really. It's a very nice dick. Well-formed, with just the barest tilt to one side.

You suppose you should let him finish washing your hair. This shower has already gone on too long, and if either Dave or Egbert are awake, they're gonna get suspicious.

You lean forward to kiss John's dick anyway. 

"I am in the middle of something here - oh my god."

You take pleasure from the strain in his voice as you mouth at his slowly-hardening dick.

"Really, Dirk? Really?" He grinds out.

You frown and look up at him. "You know, you're the first person who's ever been annoyed to get a blowjob from me. Literally, the first. I've never even gotten turned down."

He meets your eyes, and opens his mouth to speak.

You swipe the flat of your tongue over his head without losing eye contact.

"Do you even give them a  _choice_?" He asks as you pull the tip of his dick into your mouth.

You pull off with a pop and scoot backwards under the water. "Of course I do. I'll respect your decision."

"Fuck - Dirk," he whines. "I wasn't - I didn't - jesus christ -"

"I'm sorry, are you saying that you're okay with me blowing you?"

"Yes. Also, that I hate you."

You grin, take his hands, and pull him towards you. "I can work with that."

You pull his dick into your mouth.

He squeezes your hands. 

You haven't given a bad blowjob in years, and this one is no exception.

Within minutes, his hands are tangled tightly in your hair.

At this rate, you're worried that your hair won't have the  _chance_ to fall out naturally - John's gonna pull it out by the time you turn forty.

He cums with a gasp and a bitten-off moan, his dick halfway down your throat. 

You allow him to slide out of your mouth, and kiss his stomach, wrapping your hands around his hips and pulling him down into your lap. He wraps his arms around your neck and kisses you.

Somehow, you manage to get out of the shower before the next morning and without getting caught, running with towels slung low around your waists from the bathroom to your room.

You're lying in bed, his head pressed against your chest, wandering lazily into sleep when he giggles.

"What?"

He looks at you with shining eyes. "You're so concerned over your freaking _hair_."

You push his face back into your chest. "Go to sleep, moron."

He doesn't stop laughing until he falls asleep.


	5. Chapter 5

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> The end is here.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I can't believe I let it go this long without finishing it, and I'm incredibly sorry - I lost track of time somehow, and then I came back to this and found out it had been weeks since I started the last chapter. I hope you enjoy the ending!

Judging by the general dimness of the light filtering through your eyelids, it's not all that late in the morning yet.

You stay still, slowly becoming aware of your body, supported by your mattress, left leg tangled in the sheet, right leg pressed between John's legs, left arm under his head and right arm around his stomach, his back pressed against your stomach and chest. 

His breath is loud in the silence, the soft inhales and exhales taking your attention, for lack of anything else to listen to. 

You open your eyes and see his head, not an inch away from yours, your own breath stirring his hair.

You allow your fingers to tap lightly against his stomach, to brush against his skin. You press your face into his hair.

John sighs, a barely-existent change in his breathing that you wouldn't even have noticed if you hadn't been paying such close attention.

"You woke me up, you fucker."

"You're such a shithead."

"It's dating you that's made me like this."

"No, I'm pretty sure you've been a shithead since we met."

"How the fuck would you know?"

You shift your elbow until it's under you and you can prop yourself up on it and look down at him. He looks up at you with innocent blue eyes. "I'm sorry, did you forget that you literally threw a pie in my face?"

He grins shamelessly. "See? It started as soon as I saw your face."

You snort. "I don't think so."

He has the balls to look offended. "Why not?"

"Because Dave thought you were a shithead too, even  _before_ you met me."

"How the hell do you know?"

"I don't. But I can find out."

"Not if I stop you," he says thoughtfully.

"How are you planning on doing that, when you need help lifting anything heavier than ten pounds?"

A smirk flashes across his face.

He reaches up, twists his fingers into your hair, and pulls your face down to his, kissing you like he plans on taking up quite a bit of your time.

And then he rolls onto his back and his free hand slides down to your ass and pulls you down on top of him.

He has some pretty severe morning wood.

"You're actually planning on taking up quite a bit of my time, aren't you," you mutter.

He responds by sliding his hand around and rubbing your cock.

You sigh.

"What?" John says indignantly. 

You push down against him, grinding your dick against the hard lump under his boxers. "I'm hungry."

He pulls your face down to his and kisses you. "My mouth had  _better_ be better than food."

"Mm, you know what, I think if I had to choose between food and you, I'd probably choose food."

"Liar. I'm worth at least three waffles."

"Okay, but I don't smell waffles, I smell bacon, which is worth  _way_ more than three waffles." You twist yourself free of him and stand, grabbing sweatpants to disguise your half-hard dick.

John throws a pillow at you. "I hate you."

"Liar."

You stumble downstairs, the smell of bacon in your nose, and head for the kitchen.

Egbert has your brother pressed against a counter.

You turn around. "Nope."

"Aw,  _shit_ -" Dave bites out.

"My son spent all day yesterday on your lap," Egbert reminds you loudly.

You head up the stairs and into your room. 

John glares at you when you walk in. "If you have any weird news to drop on me, it can wait until after breakfast."

"Well, I walked downstairs to find your dad and my brother makin' out, and when I walked away your dad reminded me that you spent all day yesterday in my lap, and in other news, I'm pretty sure your dad is still drunk."

John groans and buries his face in his hands. "I said  _after_ breakfast, dickwad."

"In other,  _better_ news, English comes back today, and he's gonna come back to find out that his cousin is in a relationship with a twenty-two year old." _  
_

John perks up. "Why didn't you say that in the first place?" He hops out of bed. "That's the best reason I've ever been given to get up!"

You admire the way his back arches when he stretches, wrapping your arms around him kissing his temple. 

"I've still got pretty bad morning wood. I mean, if you're gonna be touching me anyway, you may as well help me out," he cajoles.

You grin and pull him backwards towards the bed, pulling his boxers down, brushing your hands across his hips and stomach and kissing his neck, reaching under your mattress for lube and a condom.

He sits on you, his back against your chest, and twists his head around to kiss you. You coat your fingers in lube and reach under him, pressing a finger inside his ass.

He arches his back with a gasp.

You suck on his bottom lip.

He pulls away from you. "Gotta go faster than  _that_. They know we're awake."

You push a second finger inside him.

He rolls his hips against you.

You take it as permission to insert a third finger.

He rolls his eyes at you and presses his ass down against your dick. "Dirk, just stick it in."

"I don't want to hurt -"

"I don't care," he whines, bouncing impatiently in your lap. "My dick hurts and I want you in my ass."

You push yourself off the bed a little so you can pull down your pants. 

John reaches behind him to grab your dick before you can even sit back down.

He slides down onto you with a curse.

"John - I'm not wearing a condom," you remind him. 

He rolls his hips against you, and you grab him involuntarily.

"Oh well," he says through gritted teeth as he begins riding you, using one hand to help himself up and down and biting the other to stay quiet.

"You're gonna care when - fuck," you swear, pressing your face into his back as he clenches around you and slides downward.

"Well, I don't care right now," he spits out.

You reach one hand around and grab his dick, and reach the other hand around to pull his hand out of his mouth and put your fingers in instead.

He sucks on your fingers desperately as you stroke his cock, your movements becoming more and more erratic as his do, removing your hand from his mouth to grab a tissue and setting it by your side so he won't make a mess, flattening your hand against his mouth again as his fingers grab at you and his nails scrape across your skin and his feet press into the ground and his body tightens around yours, squeezing your dick from base to tip as he raises himself off you, his back arching and his head thrown back.

"John -" You gasp before pressing your face into his back, arms wrapping around him as you pull him against you, every inch of your skin vibrating with the same electricity that runs through his eyes, electricity that seems to run through his veins and explode out of his skin whenever you touch him, electricity that pulses through you like your body is its best conductor. 

You kiss the base of his neck as the electricity fades and he tangles his fingers with yours over his stomach. 

"I'm still hungry," you whisper in his ear.

He makes a strange noise that reminds you of a horse. "You can be such a dick sometimes."

"The better to fuck you with, m'dear," you say cheerfully as he pulls himself off you.

He tries half-heartedly to whack you, missing by a good couple inches.

You watch his ass as he makes his way to the dresser for the second time today.

He has a cute butt.

He makes a face at you over his shoulder. "I should've let you put on a condom."

"Well, I don't care right now," you say in a high voice that mimics his. "I  _told_ you you'd care."

"Well, fuck you."

"You just did."

He pulls a shirt over his head.

"You know, I can still hear you laughing," you say as you stand and stretch. 

"Who says I was trying to muffle my laughter?"

You slap his ass. "Me."

He hits you in the stomach. "Well, you're wrong."

You smack him in the back of the head. "I'm always right."

He smacks you under the chin as you pull your pants on. "Not about me, you ain't." He freezes. 

You wait.

His face goes pale. 

"What? What's wrong?" You glance around him, searching for some sign of trauma - did he step on something?

"I said the word 'ain't'," he whispers. "I've been in Texas too long."

You're still chuckling when you get downstairs.

Dave and Egbert are on opposite sides of the table.

Egbert looks as calm as ever.

Dave looks guilty as hell.

You ruffle his hair as you pass him on the way to the counter.

John grins smugly as he sits down next to Dave. "So, Dave, I think it's time for me to give you The Talk -"

Dave smacks John in the face.

John laughs so hard he stops making noise.

"John, that was inappropriate," Egbert says mildly.

John huffs and wheezes, face bright red, as he attempts to draw breath.

Dave looks utterly humiliated.

You glance at the remaining two chairs - between John and Egbert and between Dave and Egbert - and sit next to Dave. "Listen, as long as I don't have to hear -"

Dave covers his face with his hands.

You're surprised he's not burning himself - his face is so red it looks like it's on fire.

Egbert's face is impressively impassive. "John, judging by your rather crude smile, you understand the nature of my relationship with David, and are not phased by it. Am I correct in that presumption?"

You hear it, this time, and you can't believe you didn't hear it before - of course, judging by Egbert's restraint, it might not have  _been_ there before: the way Egbert's voice curls around the name 'David', making it special in a way 'Dave' never was.

Your stomach drops.

Dave's leaving.

You knew that already. This shouldn't be such a painful realization.

Still, you look at your uneaten bacon, and your stomach turns.

He left you already, for college. This isn't that much of a change. You didn't really see him that often before, and you won't be seeing him too often now.

But at least you had the  _option_ of driving down and visiting him, before. Now you don't even have that.

Your chest constricts.

"Dirk? Are you all right?"

You look up.

John watches you, eyebrows creased in concern.

He's staying with you. 

He won't have to leave you again.

Dave's not leaving you by yourself to grow old in an empty house, he's leaving you with his best friend.

"Yeah. I'm okay."

The front door slams open.

"Roxy's here!" Roxy yells. "Where are you?"

"Kitchen!" You answer. 

She leads the troop in, and you take a moment to appreciate her, this tiny woman who can somehow stand in front of Jake English and not be pushed aside.

"Well? Was it a quiet night last night," she asks, winking at you, "without Jake?"

You note the continued absence of the letter 'y' at the end of his name.

"Well," John pipes up, smiling sweetly at her. "Dirk and I had a calm night, but we could hear my dad and Dave talking until pretty late."

Dave glares at John in a way that should have blasted John's head to pieces.

Egbert appears entirely unmoved.

Roxy looks confused. "Really? About what?" She sits on the counter.

John shrugs. "I don't know. I couldn't really make out what they were saying. You'd have to ask them." He blinks innocently at Dave. "Why are you looking at me like that, David - ow!" He yelps, jumping away from Dave.

"Did you just kick him?" You ask.

"Maybe," Dave growls.

Egbert sighs. 

You glance at Jake. He looks mildly confused.

"What were you talking about?" Roxy asks, looking between Dave and Egbert. She huffs. "Jaimy, you tell me. Davey won't."

"I believe my son is referring to a rather lengthy conversation David and I had last night regarding our relationship."

John sniggers and yelps again. He scooches his chair several inches away from Dave.

"Your relationship?" Roxy asks, a grin creeping across her face as she begins to understand.

He raises his eyebrows at her. "Am I correct in thinking you are asking for clarification? In - ah - today's vernacular, David and I are 'dating'. Does that help?"

Roxy's jaw nearly drops, but she's grinning too widely for it to go too far down. Jake looks dumbstruck. Jane and Jade are exchanging the kind of information-laden glance that only siblings can exchange. Rose looks like someone just showed her the secrets of the universe.

John's face bright red again.

Dave looks like he's trying to collapse into nothing.

And Egbert sits there, calm and impassive. 

"But -" Jake sputters.

"Yes?" Egbert says, glancing at him.

"But - he's - and -"

"Perhaps I can save you some trouble? He is nearly two decades younger than I am, he is just out of college, he is my son's best friend, and he and I, like Dirk and John, do not intend to alter the status of our relationship for your sake."

You frown.

He put that  _way_ more succinctly than you did.

Jake's mouth flaps. Roxy cackles. "You gave Dirky so much shit - and now - Jaimy! Aah! This is perfect!" She smacks John's shoulder. "Did you give Davey shit for yelling at you for dating Dirky? Didja? I'd've done it! Ha!"

"Dave," Rose says softly. "I believe I said yesterday that Roxy spilling family secrets was the height of irony. I would like to say that I was wrong.  _This_ is the height of irony. This. Right here."

He pushes his shades down his nose so she can see just how steady his glare is.

"Screw irony, I want to record Rose saying that she was wrong," you comment.

"I didn't have all the information. It would have been difficult for me to get it right."

"There's the Rose I know."

She winks at you. "Still the smartest one in the room."

"Well, you don't have much competition, do you."

Her gaze floats over to Jake, whose face is slowly turning red, apparently from lack of air, as he tries and fails to say something.

"No. No, I don't."

"Ok. If you're the smartest, I need your help. Whose face is redder? Dave's or Jakes?"

You spot Dave's foot as it comes at you under the table and scoot out of the way before it connects with your leg.

"Listen, kiddo, when you found out John and I were dating, we got kicked out of John's house and you wouldn't talk to me at all. I'm allowed to make fun of the incredible shade of red your face is turning. It matches your eyes pretty nicely, actually."

He pushes his shades up.

"Those things are big, but they don't cover your face. You should take some lessons from your boyfriend, he's got this shit down."

Egbert, poker face in place and entirely unfazed, glances at you out of the corner of his eye and sighs. "David, it would be best to calm down. Even Jake is calming down."

You look at Jake.

"Egbert, I don't know what your definition of  _calm_ is, but we don't have the same one."

"He's shut his mouth. In all likelihood, that's the calmest he's going to be."

Jake is still bright red in the face. Roxy passes him a tumbler full of whiskey and he takes it and tosses it back in one swallow.

You wince.

He does too.

John snickers.

Egbert glares at him.

He coughs and smooths out his facial expression.

Jake sits down at the single remaining chair. "You." He points at Egbert. "Are dating him?" He points at Dave.

"Yes, and if you give Dave shit for it I will kick your ass out of my house," you say.

"I tried that, once," Egbert says dryly. "It didn't work out too well, if my memory serves me."

"I'll check for oncoming trucks first."

John glares at you. "You're not allowed to do shit like that."

"Language, John."

"Shit. I mean - f - oops - sorry, dad."

Jake puts his face in his hands and mutters something that sounds suspiciously like "I don't understand a single person in this goddamn room."

Roxy slaps him on the back. "Don't worry about it, no one else does either. Except maybe Rosey. Rosey, do you understand anyone in here?"

"Of course," Rose says. "Jane and Jade are mildly uncomfortable, surrounded by people who all know each other but don't know them. They are perfectly fine with the relationship status of everyone here, but hope their father will shut up. Roxy likes it when everyone's happy, and since everyone's happy but Jake, she plans on doing her best to make him feel better and help him accept the situation. Dirk and John are quietly reveling in the irony, but Dirk isn't happy that Dave will be moving so far away. Dave isn't happy to be moving away either, but, of course, he'll have shared that fear with Mr. Egbert, who feels incredibly guilty for making him move so far away. The two of them are equally terrified, but Dave is slightly more determined and far less guilty, although presumably their discussion has assuaged Mr. Egbert's guilt. Jake, of course, is incredibly confused, and most of his anger stems from confusion as to how on earth two people a generation apart could possibly fall in love. And I am perfectly content to watch everything play out."

She smiles benevolently around the room.

"Rosey, that was absolutely useless," Roxy says after a moment.

"No, no, I found it very enlightening, actually," you say, raising your glass to Rose. "Great job."

She nods at you. "Thank you." 

"You think I should shut up?" Jake asks Jane and Jade.

They glance at each other.

"They want to say yes but don't want to hurt your feelings," Rose says.

It's a testament to the friendship the three of them had built up that they don't whack her.

Jake looks hurt.

Roxy pats his hair. "Don't worry, we all want you to shut up."

John snorts.

Dave sniggers.

Egbert glares at them both.

They shift uncomfortably, like kids who got caught stealing cookies.

"You know what would make this less awkward?" Roxy says cheerfully. "We should go see a movie."

So you do.

And it helps, somehow.

John rests his head on your shoulder for the first half, until things get good. Dave and Egbert have their fingers tangled on the armrest. Rose is commenting on every moment of the movie, and judging by the grins on Jade's and Jane's faces, they're enjoying it. By the end of the movie, Roxy is calling Jake "Jakey" again, and while Jake still doesn't look happy per se, he doesn't mention the fact that on the car ride back home, Dave falls asleep on Egbert's shoulder. 

Roxy seems to take her inability to keep secrets very seriously, and shoulders the responsibility for smoothing things over. She spends the rest of the week taking you to laser tag, movies, the mall, a roller skating rink - anything she can drive to. 

By the end of the week, you're absolutely exhausted.

Jake's accepted everything, though, even if he chooses not to talk about it. 

You drive to the airport to see everyone off.

You take Dave's suitcase out of the trunk.

"Bro, I can do it -"

"Don't care."

You stand in front of him.

Pale skin. Slight dusting of freckles across his cheekbones, you know, even though they're hidden by his shades. Bright cherry red eyes that have been open windows to his emotions since the day you picked him up out of his crib, equally hidden. Blond hair that falls flat over his skull. Tall, thin, lanky, but without the implications the word carries of being mid-growth-spurt. Old white shirt with a broken record on it, his favorite, bought for five dollars at WalMart even though you could afford to buy him anything he wanted, old jeans bought from the same place, old sneakers bought from PayLess. 

You wrap your arms around him.

You pretend not to hear his breath hitch in a sob.

"Hey, kid, I'll always be here. And I'll come visit whenever I can. I'm rich and I'm gonna make good use of the money, okay?" 

You pretend not to hear your voice crack towards the end.

He doesn't mention it.

He rubs his eyes when you let him go.

You turn towards Egbert, who releases John from a slightly less emotional hug - whether it's because he's not one for PDAs or because he's already left his son here multiple times, you don't know.

You point at Egbert. "Take care of my brother, okay? Don't let him freeze to death in the winter."

"Take care of my son. I'll keep an eye on David."

Dave's an adult. A college graduate. He can take care of himself. So can John. 

You know that.

You also know that Dave and John are both just out of college, and that Dave's never been so far away from home without you, and that Egbert probably doesn't know him the way you do and can't - 

They follow Jake into the airport, wheeling their bags, Egbert wheeling one of Dave's - the kid's moving to New York with everything he owns. 

He glances back and waves before he disappears inside.

"Dirk," John says quietly, "We can't stand here, we're not allowed to park here for more than five minutes."

You nod.

You pull over within five minutes of hitting the highway.

You lean your head back and close your eyes. 

John's fingers find yours. 

He doesn't say anything, just lets you sit there and commit your brother to memory along with the reminder that you're rich and can visit whenever you want. Hell, maybe you should just move up there, it would be better for John too, to be closer to his family, so -

But Roxy's down here, and you couldn't leave her, your best friend.

You take off your shades to rub your eyes.

"Do you want me to drive?" John asks.

You shake your head and glance at him. Tanned skin. Electric blue eyes. Dark hair that has a permanent bedhead look to it. Old ghostbusters shirt, old jeans, old sneakers. Equally as far away from his dad as you are from your brother. 

Damn close to you, though, and here to stay.

You squeeze his hand, his long pianist's fingers between your thicker ones, and lean over to kiss him. 

Your house is strangely empty when you get home, silent, with a strange look of abandonment in spite of the fact that it was full just a couple hours ago.

John sighs. "It's so much quieter."

He sounds relieved.

Strangely, you find yourself feeling equally relieved. 

Dave's things might not be here anymore - his collection of CD's and photos, socks that he always left around, the empty room sitting above your head like it somehow got heavier without his things - but neither is Egbert, whom you like and respect but don't want to live with, and neither is Jake, whose presence became bearable but was still overwhelming, and Roxy and Rose and Jane and Jade won't come bursting through the door at any moment.

You look at John.

He reaches up to take your shades off, and smiles when he sees your eyes.

You rest your forehead against his.

"I guess I live here officially, huh," he says wonderingly. "With you. For the rest of my life."

You grin. "Yeah. I guess you do."

He wraps his arms around your neck and kisses you, and the feel of his soft lips against yours, his soft arms wrapped tightly around your neck, his sharp hipbones under your fingers, his body pressed against yours, is familiar and brand-new because finally, finally, he's yours, with no interruptions and no endings and no fear, just yours, him and his electricity and his smug grin and his habit of pulling stupid pranks like putting too much pepper in your eggs and his incredible love for shitty movies, yours, all yours, and the moans that come from deep in his throat are so familiar that you grin against his lips, because he's yours. 

"Mine," he murmurs. "You're mine."

He's not the first person to say that.

But he's sure as hell the only one you've agreed with.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thank you for your comments and kudos!! I'm sorry you had to wait so long between updates, but I hope you enjoyed it anyway.


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